Eyes to the East
by Tally Winchester
Summary: Before departing for another lengthy piece of war, Chris and Piers have some time to relax at a cheap little motel room after a drink...or two... at the bar. The Sniper struggles to cope with the burning memory that ensues, and hopes the same for the strong Captain.
1. Chapter 1

"Piers, come here!" Chris stammered loudly, sitting on a hard barstool.

"Captain, I'm sitting right next to you," Piers replied, sighing at Chris's 5th attempt at drawing the boy closer. Piers almost found it funny at this point, but his composure remained professional.

"Good," Chris replied, handing his empty glass to his partner. "There's a problem here." Piers took the glass, keeping his eyes on the Captain.

"I'm sorry, Chris, but I'm not buying you another drink," Piers sighed, seeing Chris's angry gaze fall over him. "Didn't we agree that you'd stop drinking yourself into a stupor?" Chris hiccupped angrily.

"Look, Piers. I'm fine. I'm still me, okay? Look, I'm not drunk," The Captain replied. He stood from the stool for the first time in 8 drinks, and stumbled towards the younger man. Piers put out a hand and held him up.

"Yeah, you've had enough," Piers sighed, slinging Chris's arm over his shoulder. "Come on, Captain."

"I give the orders here, Piers, not you." Chris argued, but let himself be dragged by his partner nevertheless.

* * *

The pair arrived back at the musty little hotel room that they decided to stay at until the next week arrived, when they would depart back to Europe for another round of shooting and killing. Piers opened the creaky little door to Chris's room and dragged him inside, setting the drunken man down on the hard bed.

"There you go, Captain," Piers sighed, fixing his shirt. "Back safe in a bed. See you in the morning, I guess." He turned to exit the room when Chris spoke.

"You know, Piers, you look cute in plaid, you should wear that shirt more often," He smiled, his glazed eyes catching the gaze of the younger. "Like, all the time."

Piers blushed.

"Captain, you're drunk," He sighed. "Good night." He reached for the knob, but a hand pulled him back.

"I don't give a shit, come on, relax," Chris replied, pulling Piers back with enough force that he slumped onto the bed beside him. "You're always so up-tight. Maybe you should get drunk." Chris reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a familiar bottle.

"Chris, did you steal that from the bar?" Piers scolded.

"What? They weren't using it," He scoffed, pulling the cork off of the half-empty vodka bottle. "Here." He lifted the bottle up to his partner. Piers eyed it, and Chris pushed it towards him. The younger sighed.

"Chris-" Piers was cut short by the bottle being dropped into his hands, almost forcing it to fall onto the cheaply carpeted floor.

"Drink; that's an order." Chris smiled.

* * *

"You don't even know what you're talking about," Chris laughed. "Sushi has got to be the worst invention in history."

"That's not true! It's actually really tasty. Have you even ever even tried it?" Piers laughed.

"Yes, and it was disgusting. It was like eating a raw squid."

"That's because sushi is raw squid."

"And that is why it's disgusting. Humans are animals. We eat raw squid and think it's a delicacy." Chris made a sour face and chuckled, taking his heavy jacket off.

Piers blushed again, but it was nearly unnoticeable over the color that the vodka had brought to his face. He was subliminally glad for this; he wasn't sure if Chris would ask him what was wrong if his face flushed. Truth was, the younger found his Captain...attractive.

Or maybe it was just the vodka.

Yeah. Definitely the vodka.

"Help me get my boots off." Chris ordered, pulling at his still-tied boots. Piers slid off the edge of the bed and sat on the floor, knowing he'd fail if he'd tried to stand. He chuckled, and pulled the shoelace, untying the boot. Chris scoffed again, untied the other boot and took it off. Piers sat with his legs crossed on the floor, looking up at Chris with soft eyes. The Captain threw his boot at him.

* * *

Piers sighed, his arms outstretched, as he lay on the floor. He listened to Chris's laughter in the background as the TV blasted some sort of cheesy action movie. He turned his head to the side and stared at Chris's blurry face. He smiled again at the Captain's laughter.

"Do you see this, Piers? The guy punched that guy and he exploded. That is such terrible movie graphics. You'd like this, why aren't you watching it?" Chris asked, bottle in one hand and eyes glued to the screen. Piers beamed at the offer and crawled over, pulling himself up onto the bed beside Chris. Chris's booming laugh echoed again, as a man on the screen burst into flames from the main character's cigarette being thrown at his gasoline-drenched feet. Piers smiled, and laughed along with Chris.

"See? Isn't that just the worst shit you've ever seen?" Chris inquired, putting a hand on Piers' back and handing the bottle to him. Piers smiled and nodded, sipping at the bottle. Chris picked up the remote and turned the channel to the news, and then to a baseball game, and then to a cartoon channel, and then….he turned it off and sighed. "Nothing good on. Wanna go to the bar?"

"No thanks, Captain. We just came from the bar, remember? You stole this," He shook the almost empty bottle at Chris, who flashed a crooked, cocky smile. "Maybe we should find something else to do that won't get us in trouble."

"Like what?" Chris asked, stretching his arms behind his back. Piers blushed again, seeing Chris's muscles shiver as they stretched.

"We don't have much cash left. Wanna just go for a walk?" Piers asked, immediately regretting the idea.

"At 4:30 in the morning? I don't think so," Chris sneered. "Whatever. Let's go raid the vending machine."

* * *

The pathetic little laundry room seemed so empty, especially with Chris's hulking form fighting for a bag of chips in the vending machine.

"Come on, God damn it!" Chris yelled, angrily bashing his fist onto the side of the machine. "I swear, that's my fifth quarter it ate."

"Captain, it's supposed to be a dollar fifty," Piers mentioned, stepping up and putting a last quarter into the machine. A bag dropped down into the compartment and he picked it up. He turned and smiled at Chris, who proceeded to snatch the bag in frustration. Piers' face sank as Chris turned.

"Thank you, Piers." Chris said, looking back for a moment to smile. Piers gleamed.

"Sure thing, Captain." He replied, following the taller man back up to the room.

Sitting back on the bed, Chris munched happily on the contents on the overly priced bag of air.

"Uck," He scoffed. "And all these years, I thought air was free. And now it's a dollar fifty in a piece of shit vending machine."

"Well maybe next time you should wait until the breakfast room is open." Piers retorted.

"Yeah right, and pay a dollar fifty for a piece of cardboard you can spread cream cheese on? I think I'll pass," He crumpled the bag and tossed it at the TV screen. "Besides, I can live solely on liquid in a bottle," The Captain picked up the vodka bottle and sneered at it. It was very clearly empty. "Did you finish this?"

"No, Captain," Piers replied, truthfully trying to remember if he had. "I swear it was full when we went downstairs." He looked down where the bottle had been and stared at the dark spot staining the carpet.

"Well, shit," Chris cursed, throwing the bottle down next to the empty chip bag. "Got any cash?" He asked, looking at the younger with glossy eyes. The color that the alcohol brought to Piers' face had faded, and it was replaced with the color of blood rushing to his cheeks.

"No." He said, with an unintentional vibrato.

"What?" Chris asked, leaning forward.

"Nothing," Piers replied, his face flushing again. "Maybe we should just go to bed."

"What the hell are you looking at?" The Captain interrogated. His tone was almost teasing.

"Nothing, Chris, damn it! Why do you always think something's wrong?" Piers tried to look away, but a familiar hand grabbed his chin, forcing his blushing face to look into the eyes of the other.

"Because I know when something's wrong. You're looking at me like I'm candy," Chris stared for a moment, examining the color of the younger's cheeks. Piers blinked. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"No."

"It's an order." Chris spoke sternly.

"Outside of the battlefield, you're not the boss of me," Piers thought about pulling away from Chris's grasp, but he couldn't help but admire the warmth of his palm. "Get off my back."

"You're getting to be stubborn like me," Chris chuckled, letting go of the younger. Piers hid his disappointment, but apparently not well enough. Chris cracked a crooked smile and replaced his hand on Pier's chin, this time softly. "We've been partners for close to 4 months, I know you by now."

"No you don't," Piers snapped, embarrassed. "You don't know me."

"Yeah, I do." The Captain laughed teasingly. Piers blushed deeper.

"Just 'cause you're my Captain doesn't mean you know me." Piers argued.

"Oh, now I'm _your_ Captain? You being possessive, Piers?" Chris smirked, leaning forward.

"Please stop." Piers begged, secretly hoping he wouldn't.

"Keep begging," Chris smiled, inching closer to his partner's face. "It makes you all fidgety. It's cute."

"No…" Piers stuttered, at a loss for words at the comment and the closeness of the man before him.

"Yes." Chris's smile became more sinister. He quite enjoyed teasing the younger man.

"No." He tried to keep his face as solid as possible, but it was doing nothing of the sort. In fact, it was utterly melting off with nervousness.

"Piers." Chris chuckled, his own face now mere centimeters away from his partner's.

"No, Captain." Piers argued, but didn't move.

"Call me your captain again," Chris said solidly. Piers froze under the stare. "Please?" The younger blinked.

"… My Captain." Piers muttered, not sure what to do in the situation.

"Say it again." The Captain smiled, looking down at Piers' parted lips.

"… You're my Captain." He whispered, his gaze locked on Chris's wandering eyes.

"Yeah, I am," Chris whispered softly. "And you're my lieutenant, aren't you, Piers?"

Piers could feel Chris's stubble brushing against his lips. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Yeah." He muttered.

"Yeah…" Chris repeated. He let out a warm breath that caressed Piers' lips and caused the younger to shiver. Piers wanted so badly for Chris to stop teasing him, and to just kiss him already. He would be fine if that was all that happened, if all of this was forgotten when they woke up and went to the bar and did it all again. He didn't care, as long as he could kiss the lips that were close enough to taste, even if that taste was vodka and potato chips.

"Captain," He stuttered, his lips barely brushing Chris's at the word. "…You're drunk."

"Shut up, Piers," Chris scolded, and yet his voice was still so teasingly soft. The lieutenant shivered at the way Chris said his name. "You're drunk, too." Piers groaned softly, more annoyed at his own uncanny ability to ruin the moment than the burning in his face. But yet Chris was still barely touching his lips with his own. Piers felt a warmth brush across his bottom lip, and only seconds after realizing that the warmth was Chris's tongue, the Captain's lips connected. Piers immediately closed his eyes, taking in the feeling, hoping that his drunkenness wouldn't let him forget this moment. The taste of the older man's breath tickled his tongue. Chris's lips moved slightly, and Piers wondered if he was testing him. Maybe the Captain was waiting for him to move. He parted his lips and pursed them, lightly trapping Chris's bottom lip between them. He was sure he felt Chris smile before both pairs of lips parted again, and the younger felt a burn on his mouth, which he realized was a bite. Piers ran his tongue against the teeth, silently begging them to let go. They did, and they were replaced with a soothing tongue tied into his own. He felt Chris's firm hands on his shoulders, holding them tightly like he was a prisoner. He felt small compared to his partner. The tight grip loosened, and Piers felt his plaid overshirt being slid from his shoulders. He didn't question why; the thing felt heavy in the moment anyway. His grey wifebeater felt much more appropriate. Chris's lips let go, and Piers opened his eyes for a moment to witness his Captain removing the tight black tee he was wearing. The motion made the dog tags hanging around his neck jingle. Piers smiled at the dinged pieces of metal that had the name "Redfield" printed on them. Beneath the black shirt, Chris also was wearing a wifebeater, though his was white and made his muscles look like they were gasping for air. Piers wondered how Chris could even wear clothes being the size he is. Chris eyed him softly for a moment, and took him into his arms, kissing him again. This time, Piers almost felt crushed under the pressure of Chris's biceps, but he didn't care. He was in his Captain's arms, embraced and twisted in a kiss.

With his eyes closed again, Piers took in the musky scent of the man embracing him. Disregarding the smell of alcohol and salt, he smelled like a man. Like wood and grass and sweat. Piers enjoyed it for some strange reason; probably just because it was the scent of Chris Redfield. He wasn't even focused on kissing him, he was just focused on taking in the moment, and possibly wishing it was more… possibly wishing too soon.

The lieutenant felt the massive hands wander down his back, the fingers slipping just under the rim of his tanktop. The fabric lifted, and the clinging of dog tags was heard again, this time coming from his pair. He felt as if Chris was looking at them in the same way that he had, seeing the letters that spelled "Nivans" and grinning that hidden-teeth smile. Piers mimicked his Captain, opening his eyes and immediately reaching for the straining cotton that separated Chris's bare chest from the world. He pulled it up and over Chris's arms, being sure to feel the sculpted back muscles in between. He wasn't yet sure if Captain Redfield was doing this for his own personal gain or not, but the younger man didn't care. He was here, in the moment, and he wasn't about to let his wandering mind ruin that for him, whether he forgot all about this the next morning or not. Piers was being kissed again, and the massive hands caressed him, one resting on the nape of his neck and one on the small of his back. He was so comfortable here, in the arms of his Captain.

The younger was suddenly surprised as he was lifted, opening his eyes in time to see Chris beneath him. He sat straddled on him, and blushed at how vulnerable he felt. Chris smirked and grabbed Piers' tags, pulling the chain forward, and it's wearer along with it. The pairs of lips connected again, this time more forcefully than before. Piers immediately knew the Captain's intention; he could feel it beneath him. It was hard and muscular, just like the arms that held him. His face grew hot. Chris's teeth bit and his tongue soothed, and Piers could feel himself giving in to the heat. His fingers slid beneath Chris's belt, holding it on both sides of the hips, like a pair of reigns. He felt Chris's teeth clench as he moved his hips teasingly.

"My Captain…" Piers breathed, eyes still closed, lips still brushing lips. Chris grabbed the younger's hips on both sides and clenched, almost hurting the smaller man.

"That's right," Chris growled, his pants constricting his excitement. "Your Captain." Chris breathed heavily between kisses and slid his hands into his partner's pants, gripping at his backside and moving his hips faster. In a single sweep, the powerful man flipped the younger over onto his back and began unclasping the belt. Piers didn't fight it. He was exposed now. He sat back and breathed heavily, watching Chris fight to get undressed quickly. Once he was, Piers took a moment to admire the sleek, muscular figure of the man before him. Chris stood still and let this happen, even though he was throbbing to attack the vulnerable and naked lieutenant. Piers tensed as Chris's warm, eager hands slipped around him again, lifting him and flipping him back onto his stomach.

The younger didn't even have time to wonder what Chris's next move would be. The eager hands pulled his backside up, so he was on his hands and knees. The blood had just enough time to rush to his face before the strong hands moved elsewhere. Piers inhaled audibly as Chris gripped tightly around his member.

"Look at you," Chris whispered, still breathing excitedly and still throbbing. "You're so cute," He gripped tighter and jerked. Piers moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain. "You're adorable, Lieutenant." The Captain growled sadistically and made Piers moan. He breathed with anticipation. The younger man was becoming terribly erect in his hands. The Captain smiled, and licked his fingers.

"Captain…unh..!" Piers collapsed onto his forearms as the hands moved again, this time playing at his tender entrance. The fingers were warm and wet, and they moved expertly, making room for what was to come.

The boy was a wet heap, bent over the bed and being played with like a puppet. He tried his best not to moan, not to make himself even more pathetic in the eyes of his Captain, but he couldn't help it. It was like Chris was forcing him to feel all of the embarrassing pleasure. Piers was far from homosexual, in fact, he'd been with many women in his 26 years, but there was just something about Chris Redfield. He looked up to him, and admired him. He liked the way he called him Lieutenant.

The fingers pulled out quickly, forcing Piers' already pulsing erection to throb. He tried to look back at Chris, but a firm hand turned his head back, pushing it down into the pillow. He thought he heard Chris chuckle, or at least breathe through a smile, but he didn't have time to even think about questioning it before he was entered hard, and without the least bit of warning.

Piers screamed. Though it was muffled by the pillow, it was loud and filled with the sound of pain and overwhelming pleasure. Chris was huge, and that didn't just mean his hulking muscles. It was painful, especially for someone as inexperienced in receiving as Piers. He gritted his teeth between moans. Chris rested a hand on Piers' head, gripping the short, sand-colored hair between his fingers as he thrusted. The Captain's usually solid face turned hot, and he felt his excitement welling up inside Piers. He breathed through his clenched teeth, his eyes moving up and down the younger's slender figure. He loved the way the lieutenant's muscles looked while he was hunched over and tensed. The beads of sweat lining Piers' spine excited him further. Feeling another tug on his hair, Piers could hardly contain himself anymore. He lifted his face from the pillow and moaned again, not realizing how loud his voice echoed when not muffled by the musty cotton. He gritted his teeth and blushed, unleashing a last moan as he felt himself let off. Chris thrusted a last time, groaning in pleasure and letting his excitement pool inside the younger.

The Captain collapsed, knocking Piers down onto the bed alongside him. Neither of the men was sure about what had happened just then, but neither cared. It had happened, and that was it. Piers lay on his stomach; the warm, wet spot on the bed not fazing him. He just struggled to catch his expended breath. Chris lay on his back, arms outstretched. One arm was rested on Piers' back, soaking in the sweat. He too took a moment to gather his oxygen.

"Piers," He said, turning his head to look his lieutenant. "We don't speak of this, right?" Piers hesitated.

"Yes, Captain." He replied, disappointed. Though he knew that those words would come from Chris's mouth, they still hurt him to hear. The boy quite liked the idea of his Captain having a secret relationship with him.

"Good," Chris said, shifting closer to Piers. "Now go to sleep." He slid an arm under the younger and held him lightly.

Piers smiled, and replied, "Yes, Captain." Chris kissed the top of his head. When he was sure his Captain was asleep and breathing nicely, Piers lifted his head and placed a soft kiss on Chris's lips, sliding a blanket over their bodies and curling into the Captain's strong embrace.

"Good night, Chris." Piers whispered, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep in the soft light of the sunrise.


	2. Chapter 2

The freshly destroyed street was peaceful; at least compared to the last few days the sniper had spent sleeplessly keeping a vigil on his teammates. The distant sound of gunshots and blaring evacuation sirens had become somewhat of a lullaby to Bravo Team, while still keeping them focused and prepared for anything. Piers sat with his back against the cooled wall of a burned building, with his 12.7 mm Anti-materiel rifle expertly propped onto the broken pane of the second-story window beside him. His eyes flickered around to a few of his teammates who had decided to follow him into the building to take a short respite while things were calm. They were asleep, mostly, save a few who were barely holding their guns in tired hands. He looked back through the windowpane and out onto the street below, scanning the abandoned cars and piles of ash and rock for any signs of danger. The glow of lingering flames illuminated his watchful gaze and the barrel of his rifle. _Nothing yet_, he thought to himself. _I wonder how things are on Chris's end_. At the sound of the name in his head, he shivered. Though he had tried his best to forget about it, the memory of the splendor the two had shared a few weeks before still burned hot in his mind.

* * *

Opening his rested eyes, Piers smiled warmly at the sight of the strong, shirtless Captain beside him. Though the mattress was stiff and uncomfortable, Piers couldn't feel more perfect here. He glanced up and the lightly parted lips and sighed softly with a smile. He sat up, replacing the blanket on Chris and sliding his plaid shirt over his shoulders. Looking one last time at the older man, Piers leaned forward and brushed his lips over the captain's brow.

With his eyes closed, he whispered, "Good morning, Captain." The man didn't respond, but the soothing sound of his breathing was enough for the younger. He quietly stepped back and picked up his boots. He kneeled and put them on, walking out of the room with the most careful footing. Closing the door with hardly a sound, he stood still for a moment, looking down at the patterned flooring. He sighed, the feeling of disappointment rushing in at the words that rang in his mind:

"We never speak of this again, right?"

* * *

Remembering it hurt the normally strong lieutenant. Chris Redfield was right; they hadn't spoken of the night since it happened, and in fact, Chris barely spoke to him unless it was crucial to the mission at hand.

Piers silently damned himself. He wished so badly that he could just forget about it, it was tearing him apart. He gritted his teeth behind his lips and exhaled, the frustration almost visible on his breath. He leaned forward and peered through the scope of his rifle. He looked around at the rest of his team, a few perched on a tank pointed to the far-away chaos and the rest scattered about the road, some sleeping and some not. He knew why he was looking around, but he didn't want to admit it, even in the safety of his own mind: he was looking for Chris in the throng of soldiers and debris. Piers raised an eyebrow in surprise when he spotted his Captain's hulking figure. Chris was sitting in the dirt and leaned back against a rusty truck's tire. The sniper squinted a bit, and the Captain's eyes were definitely closed. Chris was sleeping.

* * *

"Nivans, how are you up in the nest?" A voice asked. It was the first voice to crackle over the headset since sunrise, and it surprised him.

"Fine up here," He replied. "All's clear for the time being."

"Copy," The soldier replied. "Eyes to the east."

Piers' face hardened, turning the barrel of the rifle towards the freshly risen sun. The street was still clear, even miles away. He leaned back, bringing his eyes back to the rusty truck and the now wide awake Chris. He still stood strongly, gloved hands wrapped into his assault rifle. He sighed once more, and returned his eyes to the scope, seeing a small, darting figure in the distance. He zoomed the sight and froze. The figure moved from its hiding spot and to another behind an adjacent car.

"Bravo, we have a hostile approaching on the east side," He said, his radio crackling back to life. "Enemy is armed." He followed the not elusive shadow as it moved behind another car.

"Take 'em out, Piers," He heard the Captain say. He blushed slightly at the voice. His eyes focused, and the crosshairs of the scope spotted the movement through a broken car window. A powerful shot rang out, and the car window exploded along with the J'avo's skull. Piers exhaled his held breath. "Nice shot." Chris's compliment brought a long needed smile to his face.

"Thank you, sir," He replied, happily. "We're in the clear again." He moved the scope back to Chris and he watched him for a moment. Chris reached up to his headset and looked up at the window.

"Copy," The Captain said. Piers' smile faded as he heard somberness in Chris's reply. His lips dropped back to seriousness and he pulled his rifle out from the window.

* * *

His boots felt heavy as he descended onto the street, the memory and Chris's eyes through the scope burning his chest. He slipped past a small, overturned Jeep and leaned against a pillar of stone that was the remains of another building, in clear view of the Captain. He sighed, holding a tight grip on the heavy gun. The Captain turned, and locked eyes with the younger, almost looking angry. He stepped forward and Piers tensed as he approached.

"What are you doing, Piers? Get back to your post," He ordered, stopping before the Lieutenant.

"We have to talk, Captain," Piers demanded, his expression solid.

"Not now, Piers. Get back to that window; that's an order."

"We have to talk," He repeated with a stern attitude.

"Is it really the best time? I gave you an order. Get back up there."

"I can't do that, sir," He sighed, looking up at the looming Chris. "Not when you're compromised."

"Compromised?" Chris snapped. "I'm doing my duty to the BSAA, as you should be. Get back to your post, soldier." Piers remained where he stood, silently glaring back at Chris's burning eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" Piers asked, his shoulders rising slightly with tension.

"What's wrong with me?" Chris reiterated, scoffing at the words. "Maybe the fact that it's my men out there, again, and it's my responsibility to see that they're doing what they're supposed to be doing. Again," He leaned forward and bored his eyes into Piers'. "You're making it hard when you are, in fact, not doing as I tell you. Get _back_ to your _post_."

"You haven't said one word to me outside of the battleground since that day," Piers almost choked on the words. As much as he felt like a hypocrite, he hated disobeying the order that burned from the night they shared. Chris froze, his eyes barely flickering to focus. He stood straight again and stared.

"I told you we wouldn't speak of that again," He retorted under his breath.

"So you do remember," Piers said, pursing his lips. Chris's expression softened, though his solid gaze remained in the eyes of the other. "You remember everything."

"Get back up there, Piers. I won't tell you again."

"You remember it all, and you've been making it a point to avoid me because of it," Piers stepped forward, now a breath's length away from the sturdy man. "Tell me, Chris, does it hurt you like it hurts me? Does it, Chris? Because it's tearing me apart," He visibly gritted his teeth at the Captain. Chris's face softened, though it was clear that he was struggling to keep his authoritative presence. When no words came out, Piers stepped back again. "It does, doesn't it?" He looked down at the ground and sighed, turning to walk. Chris reached out and put a hand on the younger's shoulder. Piers didn't look back, but he stood still, hoping the Captain had more to say.

"Yeah, it does," Chris said, his voice much less harsh, but still with a sting to it. "And that's not going to change. Please, go back to the window." Chris retracted his hand and Piers stood for a moment, unmoving at the words. He blinked slowly and continued forward, not looking back.

He felt lighter now, walking back up the stairs. He still felt frustrated, but he wasn't sure why. Noticing that all of the stray Bravo soldiers on the second floor had left, he slumped back onto the gritty floor and propped his rifle back onto the window. There were still no enemies approaching, and he began to believe there wouldn't be. His eye backed away from the scope and he felt a lump swell in his throat. At the very least, he was certain now that his night with Chris Redfield wasn't a dream, or some drunken fantasy, and he was certain that Chris knew it too. He felt a tear flood his eye and immediately wiped it away with the palm of his glove. He turned the scope back to the stone pillar to find Chris leaning against it, facing away from the window. Piers watched him with longing, beginning to turn the gun back to the east side of the bridge when he saw Chris's hand move up to his face. Only a second after realizing that Chris too had wiped away a stray tear did the sniper decide to keep the scope's view on the Captain and his eyes on the east side.

* * *

Chris's heart ached. There was a reason he told Piers never to speak of the subject, and this was why. He was in fact compromised; he had been sure of it since the night the burning began, and knew he couldn't escape it. He wished the memory was sour, was bitter to think about, but it was sweet, passionate, and tugging at the last bit of sanity the broken man had left. He'd lost too many of his men, and he knew the night that he locked himself into all of Piers' being that he would never be able to lose that man, or nothing in him would retain the shape or existence of Chris Redfield. He knew it, and he did it anyway. He didn't care the cost, didn't care the ache; he just wanted Piers to himself. He was compromised, and he had never been before. It hurt him, knowing that he had to let go of not just his feelings, but even the memory of those feelings, no matter how deeply they burned in his heart. He wiped another tear away before it had a chance to stain his cheek. He looked around at the dirt and rubble, but refused to turn his longing eyes to the window on the second floor of the four-story building behind him; that would push him beyond composure.

* * *

The sun slipped its way beneath the west horizon and brought a cool darkness to the soldier-strewn street. Piers hadn't moved, and still kept watch over the rest of Bravo. He curled and uncurled his fingers in a pile of dirt beside him. He looked back through the scope and noticed that the Captain was no longer standing near the stone pillar. He turned the rifle and scanned the dim streets, not seeing Chris anywhere. His ears perked as he heard a step echo up the stairs, and another; he pulled his MP-AF sub-machine gun from its place on his shoulder and aimed the sight at the stairs, pushing himself to the corner of the dilapidated room. His heart sped up as the heavy steps ascended, and his finger tensed around the trigger. When he saw Chris's head emerge from the staircase, he lowered his weapon and exhaled, the stress leaking out of him.

"Piers," Chris whispered, apparently not seeing the sniper concealed in the shadow of the corner. "You awake?"

"Yes, sir," He whispered back, crawling back into the dull light slipping in through the window. Chris didn't reply, but just came toward the younger, sitting beside him against the wall.

"You okay up here?" He asked, propping his arm on the windowsill.

"Yeah, I'm good," Piers replied, almost lying. He wasn't sure exactly if he was "okay"; his heart still sat beating in his throat.

"Do you need anything?" Chris asked, seeming to avoid looking anywhere but out the window.

"No, sir," The younger replied again. He unintentionally studied Chris's face for any sort of emotion. He felt like he bit on the words; he wanted to tell his Captain all that was on his mind. He wanted to scream that he was not okay, that he did need something, and that that something was Chris. His throat welled up again as he watched Chris's silhouette against the flickering street light for a long while before it moved.

"Listen, Piers," Chris started, looking over to the ground in front of him. "What you said back there… You're right," He paused again, his face moving suddenly as it cycled through a dozen emotions all at the same time. "It hurts, that memory. It really does."

"Captain…" Piers began to interject, but was silenced by Chris shaking his head and clamping his eyes shut.

"It hurts, and I needed you to know that," He opened his eyes again as his voice broke. There was a sparkling gloss over them.

"Chris, I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry…" Piers tried not to sound desperate for forgiveness.

"That's just it, Piers… You didn't hurt me. I don't know why you think that," He finally turned his head to gaze into the eyes of his partner. "You _saved_ me. You rescued me from myself, Piers, you dragged me back from the depths of Hell, I hope you know that," Piers sat quietly and was stunned. "You're the one thing that I can't stand to lose, Piers. If you were gone, I don't know what I'd do."

"Captain…" Piers muttered. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to the crying Captain. He wanted to hold him and to tell him it would be alright, but he knew in his heart that any day could be his last, and he had a feeling like that day would be soon. He swallowed a painful choke of guilt and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Chris's shuttering shoulder. He sat like that for a moment and allowed a tear to escape before he was crushed into an embrace. He hesitated, but proceeded to bury his face into Chris's arm, taking in the smoky sent again. It was so intoxicating, now that it was pure and not dappled with the scent of alcohol. He wrapped his arms around the Captain's torso and nuzzled him lightly as he sobbed into his shoulder. The feel of Chris's short hair against his ear tickled him. He reached a hand up and wiped away the moisture that was smudged on the older man's face.

"Piers…" Chris muttered, his voice cracking.

"Don't worry, Captain. We'll make it out of here," Piers smiled, putting a hand behind Chris's head and touching his forehead to his own. Chris sniffed, staring into his Lieutenant's eyes. The Captain raised a hand and rested it on the nape of Piers' neck, slowly meeting the younger's lips with his.

"Well tomorrow the team is moving out," Chris smiled crookedly. "And we're going with them. I guess that counts." The pair chuckled quietly.

"Yeah," Piers smiled back, stealing a last quick kiss before Chris stood up.

"Get some sleep," The Captain ordered, stepping lightly down the steps. Piers smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chris Redfield marched diligently. He needed nothing more than the sound of dozens of shuffling feet behind him to assure him that all was well. His eyes scanned the area ahead of him constantly, knowing that leaving the burned down streets and dilapidated buildings also meant leaving safety. It had been several hours since Bravo Team had departed from the small, sanctuary of a street, and Chris could tell the team was getting restless.

"Alright, we'll rest for a bit up at that cropping," The Captain pointed, and dozens of eyes followed. "Once we're all set and fed, we'll move out again." The team murmured, but all of the mutters were all around of happy things. They marched on with eagerness, arriving at the little bundle of trees and setting down their things.

* * *

"Hey, Piers," A rookie soldier asked, sitting himself beside the sniper, who had found a comfortable spot to relax. "What do you think Captain Redfield has planned for when we get to wherever we're going?"

"I dunno," He answered honestly. Now that he thought about it, he was too busy wondering when the next time he'd have alone with the Captain was that he hadn't noticed Chris's lack of communication. "But whatever it is, you have to trust that he knows it, even if we don't."

"Captain Redfield is so awesome," The soldier sighed, eyeing Chris from a distance. "It's like he could get into a fight with a rock the size of a house and win." Piers blushed, his eyes brushing over the muscular man.

"Just focus on the mission, private," He snapped, shaking his head of thoughts and jealousy. "The Captain is the way he is because he needs to be, and you might be just like him one day."

"You think so? You really think so?" The boy's eyes sparkled, and Piers sighed.

"Yeah, kid. I do."

* * *

The sun started to set, and the sky glowed a dull orange. Chris sat with his back against a large oak and sighed heavily, taking in the fresh air. He reached to the side and pulled a bright green apple from his pack.

"Hey, Captain," Piers said, kneeling next to Chris. "How's things?" Chris blinked at the younger man mid-bite of his apple.

"Piers, hey. I wanted to talk to you," He muttered, a chunk of apple still in his mouth. Piers smiled, thinking Chris was adorable, for once.

"Sure, what about?" Piers asked. Chris handed him the apple and offered a bite. Piers accepted and munched on the fruit.

"Not much. I just miss you already," Chris said, smiling. The words almost made Piers choke on his most recent bite of apple.

"Captain..! Quiet..!" Piers hushed, looking around in case any men heard them.

"It's fine, Piers, relax. No one can hear us way over here. They can barely see us either," He suggested, putting a seductive hand lightly on the sniper's cheek. Piers blushed, looking at the half-eaten apple. He blinked and handed the apple back, apologizing. Chris chuckled and took it, taking a bite. Piers watched for a second, secretly enjoying the way his Captain's lips wrapped around the apple as he bit. How he wished he was that apple. "You want any more?" Chris asked, handing the apple back in Piers' direction. He shook his head and Chris threw the apple out into the clearing.

"It's getting dark," Piers mentioned, crossing his legs and leaning back against the tree. Chris was silent; this made Piers eager to know what he was thinking. The Captain's eyes were closed and he was breathing lightly. "Are you asleep?" He asked.

"No," Chris replied, unmoving except for his mouth.

"What's the matter?" The younger asked, secretly biting his lip at the other's stillness. He wanted him to be attentive. He wanted to see his eyes.

"Nothing," The Captain replied, smirking.

"Come on, are you not gonna talk to me now? Again?" Piers blushed in frustration. He wouldn't be able to handle if Chris suddenly decided to be blunt with him again.

"No," Chris replied again, this time opening one eye to look at the younger.

"Chris!" The sniper growled, leaning forward to pry for a response. Chris snapped forward and stopped an inch away from Piers' face.

"Yes, Piers?" He asked, smiling and boring his deep eyes into the other's. Piers froze. His face grew hot, and he wasn't sure why; it was like that night all over again, like the first time those stern, order-giving lips had tied themselves into his own. He found himself trembling under the gaze of the dark eyes. He wasn't afraid, he didn't think. He'd never been afraid before; it ran in his family to be a fearless machine, dedicated to a single cause. But here, in this moment, he wasn't sure what that cause was anymore; but then he shivered, realizing a passionate truth:

He was afraid; and not of the man before him, but of losing him. Chris Redfield had said just the night prior that he couldn't stand to lose the young sniper, and Piers knew now what he was talking about. He was afraid of losing Chris. He was a wreck after just a few weeks of the Captain not speaking to him directly, what would happen if he could never speak to him again?

"I love you, Chris Redfield," Piers said sternly. He was caught off guard by the words that had escaped his own lips. Chris didn't move, but Piers knew that he had heard the words, because the dark eyes grew soft. He wasn't sure if he wanted to say them again, but they felt nice to say. "I think I love you."

"You think?" Chris asked, his expression still solid and his timbre still firm. Piers blushed and looked to the side, but the familiar hand brushed his cheek again, forcing his gaze back. The eyes begged silently to hear the words again.

"I love you," Piers repeated, the words dancing off his tongue.

"Yeah, you do," Chris smiled, his thumb caressing the younger's smooth cheek. Piers blinked, almost upset at the response. He wished he could hear the same words from the mouth that was inches away. The Captain put a hand behind Piers' head and pulled him forward, resting the younger's head on his collarbone. "You know, you're the first person I've ever watched a sunset with." Piers smiled, nuzzling lightly into the muscular chest.

"Yeah, you too," He replied, his voice light and embarrassed. "It's kind of romantic."

"Not romantic," Chris replied, chuckling heartily. "I don't do romance."

"I dunno, Captain. You're pretty romantic to me," Piers chuckled. Chris ruffled the younger's hair.

"Nah," He responded. "I'm not romantic to you. I'm just normal."

"You're being normal with me?" Piers laughed. "I figured 'normal' for you and me would be all Romeo and Juliet; all secret and shit. Either that or you'd be bench-pressing me in your living room."

"Did you seriously just compare me to Romeo?" Chris leaned back, looking at the younger with a fake frustration.

"Nope, you're definitely Juliet," Piers laughed loudly, dodging a punch from the older man.

"Yeah?" Chris laughed, chasing Piers down the small hill and grabbing him up from the waist. "Can Juliet do this?" He lifted Piers over his shoulder and held him upside down.

"Okay, not funny, let me go!" Piers struggled, still laughing.

"Take it back," Chris said with a grin. He hopped, shaking the younger around on his shoulders.

"Agh! You're not Juliet!" Piers caved, struggling to keep his equipment from scattering onto the ground below.

"Damn straight," Chris chuckled, letting the sniper down with a thud.

* * *

The stars were bright, and the soft glow of a poorly made campfire lit the grassy area dimly. One soldier had pulled out a harmonica, and off-key songs were being sung around the warm light. Chris still sat by the oak tree with Piers napping peacefully on his shoulder. He looked to the stars and traced constellations with his eyes. His ears perked at the sudden silence and he turned his head to the campfire.

"Captain Redfield," A voice spoke over the headset. Piers shifted at the sound.

"Go ahead," He responded, gently waking Piers and standing for a better view. Something was wrong.

"We have movement to the southeast. It looks like a lot," At the words, Chris and Piers sprang up, jogging over to the fire. "Holy shit." The voice cursed.

Coming over the hill, against the dim luminosity of the burning city, was a horde of shadows moving rapidly in the direction of Bravo Team.

"God dammit… Bravo, battle stations!" Chris snapped, propping his rifle on his shoulder. The shadows closed in, and some of them were suddenly close enough to see the burning red eyes.

"ENGAGE, ENGAGE!" Piers shouted, opening fire on the looming shadows. Guns blazed, and the figures fell rapidly. Chris gritted his teeth, pulling a fresh clip from his pouch and reloading his weapon with precision. A scream rang out over the gunshots, and the furious Captain turned to see a soldier on the ground, his intestines being consumed ferociously by an infected.

"NO!" Chris screamed, turning his weapon and eliminating the enemy. He ran to the downed man and cradled him for a moment, before his eyes and mouth flew open in a hungry attack. The Captain reached back and drew his knife, stabbing through the attacker's skull. Recoiling for a moment, Chris was caught off guard, and suddenly three undead were piled on top of him as he fought to keep them from biting through his clothes. A piercing shot rang out, and another, and another, and the Captain was suddenly free, looking back at the sniper.

"You owe me!" Piers yelled, turning the barrel of his gun in just enough time to explode an oncoming enemy. Chris had no time to be appreciative as he turned to see another soldier being torn apart beside him.

"EVERYONE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Chris screamed, pulling a man back by his vest and shooting as many shadows as he could before turning to run.

As his boots hit the dirt, he counted.

Piers, one.

Marco, two.

Finn, three.

Malcolm, four.

Greg, six.

Counting four other men, the Captain was relieved that eleven men, including himself, had retreated. His face turned hard at the thought of the other three. The remaining ten were running low on stamina; an uphill sprint wasn't necessarily the easiest thing to do, especially when it's life or death.

"Get to that building!" Chris screamed, eyeing a tall church building ahead of the group.

* * *

Turning and slamming the huge, stone door, Bravo Team collapsed in the empty chapel. Moans and screams were still heard through the windows, although they were boarded up and had several upright pews barring them shut.

"Piers, is everyone okay?" Chris panted, spotting the sniper keeled over against an adjacent wall. He coughed.

"Eleven men accounted for, Captain," Piers hacked. "All in stable condition." Before commenting, Chris noticed a dark spot on Piers' vest. He charged forward and turned the younger around, investigating the stain further.

"Piers, oh my God," Chris turned pale. He turned Piers around again and began tearing his vest off. "Piers, no…" The sniper was too tired to protest. With his torso bare, Piers was lifted and placed lightly onto the floor, his back visible. Beneath the left shoulder blade was a deep wound.

"Did he get bit?" A voice asked.

"God, no, Piers, no," Chris hissed through gritted teeth. He took Piers' grey undershirt from the ground and placed it over the wound, pressing to stop the bleeding. He looked closer, hesitating before lifting the bloody cloth for a moment. The wound was clean and circular. Chris sighed deeply in relief. "Get me a Goddamn medic, he's been shot."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hang in there, Piers," Chris whispered, cradling the sniper. The Captain held a firm hand on the younger's back, keeping the blood from escaping any more than it was. "Just keep breathing, you hear me?"

"You... have to… get it out…" Piers coughed, a trickle of crimson staining his lip.

"In due time, Piers, we have to wait for a medic to get here. I radioed HQ, Echo Team should be here soon, I promise," He brushed a soft hand through the lieutenant's sandy hair. Piers coughed, his eyes closed. He inhaled deeply, cringing in pain, and Chris recoiled as he passed out. The Captain stared for a moment, studying the breathing of the body in his arms; it was steady as much as it was struggling.

* * *

Chris was almost dozing off at the sound of Piers' staggered breathing mixed with the moans and growls from outside the stone walls of the church. He looked around at his men, who were standing at constant attention, wary of each sound that was heard from outside the barricaded doors. Chris grinned proudly. He looked back to Piers as he shifted in his arms; the younger's eyes were still closed, but the pain in them was visible nonetheless. Chris's brow furrowed. He wished the damn medic would hurry up and get here, so his lieutenant could be saved.

"Alpha, this is HQ, do you copy?" A voice crackled over the radio.

"This is Chris, HQ, I copy," The Captain replied.

"Echo Team is closing in on your location. How is the situation?"

"Not so great, HQ, we're surrounded and we have a man down," He paused, looking back to Piers' closed eyes. "How far is Echo?"

"2 clicks north, heading east to you. Arrival time is 3 minutes."

"Good. Redfield out," Chris said, pulling his hand from the radio on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth as Piers began to cough again.

A rough pounding on the door forced Bravo Team to stir; guns were aimed and feet were planted. Chris hoped to hear an Echo Team voice outside, but only the hungry moans of enemies were audible.

"Sir, where is that cover?" A soldier asked, his gun propped heavily on his shoulder.

"Not too far out. They'll be here any minute," Chris replied, his eyes on the rattling door.

* * *

"There's the church," The Echo Team Captain pointed. "Get us down there, pilot."

"Yes sir," The pilot replied, pushing on the throttle and steering the chopper into a descent.

"Engage, Echo," The Captain ordered. A rain of bullets poured over the hostile zombies, causing them to fall. Ropes fell from the helicopter door, with soldiers soon after. As each member of Echo Team landed, another enemy fell, making the trek to the door of the chapel that much easier.

"Alright, get that medic into Captain Redfield, we don't want any lives to be lost on our watch."

The sound of gunshots was a relief to each soul trapped in the church. The brief sound of silence was followed by a loud knock, and a voice.

"Bravo, open up! The coast is clear!" Chris nodded at a few soldiers looking to him for an order, and they ran to the stone doors, opening them just enough for a few bodies to enter.

"Captain," Chris acknowledged, seeing the Echo Team leader approaching. "I might have a talk with your superiors about your team always being late."

"My apologies, sir," The Echo Team Captain retorted, his face in clear embarrassment. A woman in a white vest appeared from behind him, stepping forward and kneeling next to Piers.

"Yeah, well, your 'apologies' could have gotten one of my best men killed. Next time you may not be so lucky to get here 'just in time', soldier," Chris looked at the woman, her messy black hair and thick framed glasses almost soothing to his mind. She flipped Piers over in his arms and the younger cried out in pain. "Hey, easy!" Chris snapped.

"Let me see that, Captain," The medic demanded, taking the blood-soaked shirt from his hand and lifting it to examine the wound. She pulled out a syringe from her bag and pulled the cap off with her teeth, injecting the needle into Piers' right shoulder. The sniper let out a pathetic moan.

"You're hurting him," Chris snapped again.

"With all due respect, Captain Redfield, your soldier has been shot. I don't think a dose of lidocaine is going to hurt him any more than he currently is," The medic made brief eye contact with Chris, and went back to her work. Chris didn't speak again until the woman pulled a sharp looking scalpel from the bag.

"Hey, hey, hey, is that necessary? Come on now," Chris reached forward, but his hand was swatted away.

"Sir, I don't care how high of a rank you are, but unless you want this man to die, right here and now, with a bullet lodged in his lung, I suggest you allow me to finish my work," The medic snapped, her teeth bared. She had obviously dealt with uneasy onlookers before. Chris bit his lip and watched as the blade sliced deeply into Piers' shoulder. The sniper wasn't moving much, save the small rhythm of his breathing. Another tool was pulled from the medical bag; it looked like a long wire.

"What does that one do?" Chris asked, almost embarrassed.

"It has a very thin blade on the edge. It will dislodge any loose tissue from the debris so I can pull it out more easily," The medic replied. As quickly as the tool was inserted, it was pulled out, and replaced with a long pair of tweezers. The woman dropped the bloody bullet into Chris's gloved hand. The Captain blinked and examined it.

"Hey," Chris yelled behind him. Several eyes met his. "Anyone have a canteen of water?"

"I do, sir," A soldier replied, handing the canteen.

"Thanks," Chris said, unscrewing the top. He poured the liquid over the bloody bullet, cleaning it. He squinted, holding the chunk of metal before him. "This isn't from one of our guns," He said under his breath. His heart raced. He looked back to the medic, who was biting off the last bit of stitching from her needle. Piers' wound was clean and sutured.

* * *

Piers blinked as he came to. He felt around him, waiting for his eyesight to return. He was lying on his side, in a pew. There was a heavy coat over his lower torso and legs, which he knew was his Captain's. He flexed a bit, a sharp pain ringing his ears and pulsing in his right shoulder.

"Damn it," He hissed, reaching up and holding his right shoulder.

"Piers," Chris smiled, kneeling next to him. "Thank God you're alright."

"What happened?" He asked, holding a hand to his head to dull the headache.

"You were shot. Bullet dug itself right into your lung. You're lucky to be breathing," Chris smiled again, brushing a cool, damp cloth over the lieutenant's forehead.

"Glad to hear you worried about me," Piers attempted a chuckle, but it was much too painful. The laugh was released as a moan of agony.

"Yeah, well, save your breath. I was worried as hell, and I still am," He sighed, still dabbing the sweat from the sniper's brow with the cloth.

"What? Why?" Piers coughed slightly.

"The bullet that hit you wasn't an accident. It wasn't one of our bullets," He pulled the cloth away and replaced it with his hand, feeling for a fever. "We don't know who shot you."

"Was it intentional?" Piers asked, his eyes glossy.

"Talking to the men, I think it was intended for me. You must have taken the hit when I fell in that horde trying to save Cooper," Chris sighed, looking down to Piers' wrapped shoulder. "That was meant for me. It was meant to look like an accident, but they missed."

"You've got to be kidding," Piers hissed, laying his head back on the wood.

"Once you're healed enough to move, Echo Team is gonna fly us out of here and back to the base. HQ wants to get FOS in on this; they want to investigate who was trying to shoot at us."

"Yeah," Piers replied, finding himself struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Get some rest. Alright?" Chris leaned forward inconspicuously and placed his lips on Piers' damp forehead. "Just don't die on me. I'll kill you if you die on me."

"Yes, Captain," Piers smiled. Chris laughed quietly, placing one last kiss in the younger's hair before standing and returning to the group of soldiers.

* * *

It was late now, and the pain in his right shoulder refused to let him get any more rest. The sniper looked around at Bravo and Echo Team scattered about the main room of the chapel, looking as they had a few nights prior in the burned down building on the street. They were sleeping peacefully, save a few who were hugging their guns and watching the door. Piers stood and stretched as much as he could, without making the pain worse.

"Hey," He whispered, shuffling quietly over to one of the few still awake soldiers. "Where'd the Captain put my gear?"

"Lieutenant Nivans, you should be resting, sir," The man replied, looking around for Chris.

"Yeah, yeah, well, I can't. I was shot; you try sleeping after that. Where're my guns?" He demanded quietly. The soldier pointed to a small pillar by the main altar. Piers mouthed a silent 'thank you' and snuck over.

The sight of his rifle was almost comforting; he caressed it a bit before picking up his belt and his MP-AF, reloading it and looking around at the rest of the church. He spotted a little door next to the altar and smiled, slinging his weapon around his shoulder and turning the knob. It was dark inside, just like the rest of the church; the sniper clicked on his flashlight and stepped inside, his eyes immediately focusing on a large wooden chest in the middle of the room. It was labeled: "Authorized personnel only". He kicked at it, noticing first the age of the thing. It was old and turning green from not being touched for what could have been years. After a few more kicks, the lock fell off, taking a chunk of the rotting wood with it. Piers smiled again, crouching and lifting the chest's lid. Inside was a lining of soft cotton and silk, with what looked like an important heirloom. It was sparkling under the pointed light and looked like a key with a small crown dangling from one end.

"Thank you for finding that," A female voice whispered closely, causing Piers to turn around rapidly before he was knocked out cold.

* * *

The sniper came back into consciousness before he opened his eyes. He listened around him, hearing only the sound of dripping water and a slight breeze from above. He peeked open his eyes, seeing a woman dressed in black leaning on the adjacent wall.

"I'm glad you're awake," She said, unfolding her crossed arms and stepping forward into the dim torchlight. Her brown hair was tied back and hidden under a cotton bandana. "We can talk business now."

"Who the hell are you?" Piers asked, yanking at the rope that bound his hands behind him.

"It's always the same questions with you guys: 'Who are you', 'What do you want', 'What are you going to do'. Let me answer everything for you simply, soldier; I'm a hunter. My name doesn't matter at the moment, but you might find out if I grow to like you. What I want is to use you as bait for my real prize, one that was taken from me. And as to what I'm going to do, well, that's quite obvious. I'm going to torture you in front of him until he and I can come to an agreement. Understand?"

"You're the one who shot me, aren't you?" Piers asked, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, come now. That's such a harsh way to put it. You see, I wasn't aiming for you, my precious little sniper, so you have my sincere apologies," She shrugged, leaning forward and inching close to Piers' face. He spat at her.

"Apology not accepted, you fucking maniac," He hissed, knowing the bullet was meant for Chris. "What the hell do you want with Chris?"

"What do I want with Chris? I just want to kill him so I can get my money, and that's a little hard when you're all locked up snug and cozy in a church, sucking each other's thumbs and waiting for something positive to happen in this damned world," She smiled, feeling the man's staggered breaths on her lips. "Now you're just helping me. And I thank you for that."

"Fuck you. If you lay a finger on Chris, so help me, I will have every soldier in this fucking city after you before you have a chance to blink," He snarled, a bead of sweat slithering across his veiny forehead. "You'll be dead, and you won't get your damned money. You hear me?"

"Oh, I hear you, lieutenant. But that doesn't change the fact that I know how to break you. I know how to break you, and I know how to break your precious Captain; I know how to break every single one of your little friends that will come charging down here with him to save you. And all I have to do is tell them the truth," The brown-haired woman reached behind her and pulled out a video tape, waving it in front of the tied man's eyes.

"What the hell is that?" He growled.

"The truth," She grinned, kicking his chair around so he could face the television on the table behind him. She inserted the tape and folded her arms again, leaning against the table and watching Piers' face for expression.

The tape played, and Piers watched with embarrassment and horror as a scene unfurled before him:

On the screen was a musty hotel bed, and laying casually on the bed, talking about crappy action movies, was Chris and Piers.

"No," The sniper's eyes widened, and his face grew hot.

"It's quite a film I made, I might take it to Hollywood," The woman smiled, seeing shock and fury on the man's face as he watched.

The screen was clear and vivid; Piers could see every bead of sweat on Chris's naked body, every shake on his own as the passionate secret played back to him.

"They'll excuse you both from the BSAA, you know," She smiled, ejecting the tape from the player. "And I'm sure none of your men will help either of you; they're actually quite heartless when you get to know them."

"You don't understand," Piers muttered.

"What don't I understand, lieutenant?" The woman asked, returning to her spot just a few inches from the man's face.

"There's more to it than that," He stuttered, looking away from her. "There's heart, there's emotion. There's love," He stared at the floor, his eyes straining to hold back a tear. "Please, please don't hurt Chris. Take me instead; I'll do whatever you want. Just please, let him go. Take me instead." He looked back at the dark haired woman, his eyes glossy and begging for understanding.

"You'd give your life for his?" She asked, smiling. Piers looked down again, nodding. "You know, you're kinda cute," She chuckled, pulling Piers' chin up and kissing him. He let it happen; he would do anything to save his Captain.

The flimsy door burst open suddenly under the weight of a steel-toed boot, and the clicks of loaded guns pierced the little room. The woman recoiled, pulling a pistol from her belt and standing, pointing the barrel against Piers' temple.

"Freeze!" Chris screamed, his pistol pointed furiously at the woman's head.

"Think twice before you shoot, Chris Redfield; one move and your lieutenant is brains on the wall," She pulled the weapon's hammer back and Piers shut his eyes tightly. She turned the chair back around so that they could see each other.

"Piers, are you alright?" Chris asked, his eyes unmoving from the woman in his sights.

"Yeah, I'm alright," He replied, opening his eyes and staring at the Captain with remorse.

"You should feel lucky, Captain Redfield. Your partner here has made me turn over a new leaf," She cocked her head and grinned.

"What?" Piers asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Let him go," Chris growled.

"On one condition, Captain. I was sent to kill you several months ago, and my first attempt failed. But I'm giving you the deal of a lifetime, if you have your men stand down," She shrugged a bit, waiting for a reply.

"Out of the question," He snapped.

"I don't think it will be so out of the question when Piers is the new color of my wallpaper," She didn't smile this time, but pushed the pistol's barrel tighter against the sniper's head. Chris gritted his teeth, hesitating.

"Stand down," Chris ordered, and Bravo Team lowered their guns. He kept his pistol pointed firmly.

"Now, here's my proposition," She took the gun away from Piers' head and held it up along with her empty hand. "I won't shoot you, I won't kill you. If you shoot me, I will kill him," She gestured to the binded man. "Sound good?"

"How is that a proposition?" Chris hissed.

"No, no, that is just an understanding, Captain," She chuckled. "Do we have a deal?" Chris lowered his gun.

"Fine," He sighed, fury escaping with his breath.

"Great! Now, this is what I'm going to do for you. If I don't have your head on a platter, I don't get paid. It's how a job works. But I'm willing to negotiate; you help me frame your death and I let you untie your man, it's that easy."

"You're kidding me," Piers laughed from behind. The woman hushed him.

"You're telling me, that if I help you make it look like you killed me, then you'll just let him go?" Chris sneered.

"More or less," She shrugged again.

"Why?" The Captain asked, almost in shock.

"Because I have so many ways to break you, to break your men, to break everything, but after breaking one man, this little guy right here," She ruffled Piers' hair. "I have a new outlook. At least until my heart runs away again. You see, I loved a man once, too, and, well, the story doesn't matter. The fact is, I'm giving you this deal out of the kindness of my heart and because I don't have the patience or the time to chase your happy ass around for months and months. I need my money, you need your soldier. That's that. Do we have a deal?"

"What do I have to do?" Chris asked, looking to Piers for the first time since he broke down the door.

"I need a fresh skull; burned, dirty, indistinguishable. I need your tags and your BSAA patch, along with 2 pins from incendiary grenades. Understand?"

"You're pretty smart, aren't you?" Chris asked, standing casual and straight.

"I'd like to think that being a hired assassin deserves its perks, and intelligence is one of them," She grinned, putting a hand to her hip.

"Fine. I'll get you what you need, but let Piers go first. He's wounded, he needs medical attention," Chris stood with a stern face.

"No can do, muscles. Don't worry though, I'm specially trained in field medics and surgery, I'll take good care of the little puppy." She glanced at her prisoner and smiled. Piers blushed.

"At least untie him," Chris begged.

"You untie him," She smiled, stepping to the side. "But until I get my framework, my gun stays on him." Chris stepped forward, his eyes locked on hers. He leaned down behind the sniper and cut his bindings, taking a brief moment to tie his fingers into Piers'.

"Alright," Chris said, sheathing his knife on his belt. He reached up and yanked off his dog tags, handing them to the woman. "If I'm not back in one hour, you have my permission to come looking for me. Don't hurt my soldier, don't leave this spot, or I will hunt you down and strip your skin from your bones. Got it?"

"It wouldn't be beneficial to either of us if I left, or if I harmed your lieutenant. I wouldn't get my money, you wouldn't get your slice of the deal," She replied, putting a hand on Piers' shoulder.

"Alright," Chris said, hesitating before turning out the door. The woman smiled, turning to Piers, who was still sitting on the chair, but was untied.

"Here," She said, tossing him the tags. "Hold on to these."

"I take it I've grown on you now?" Piers asked.

"You could say that," She replied, fiddling with something on the wooden table.

"Do I get to know your name?" Piers asked, standing.

"Are you gonna tell on me?" She asked, smirking.

"I might," Piers replied, also with a smirk.

"My name's Miranda," The woman answered, turning and taking her hat off.

"Well thanks, Miranda," Piers acknowledged. "Thanks for listening."

"It was your eyes. You're like a little kid, I can't say no to a little kid," She laughed, turning back around and continuing her project on the table. Piers' face turned sour.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He snapped. Miranda laughed.

"It means, when this is all over, we'll never see hide nor hair of each other again, so just deal with it as it comes."

* * *

Chris barreled through the streets, searching mindlessly for an innocent soul to kill and rip their skull from their shoulders. He hadn't thought twice about it either, all he could think about was how Piers' hand was shaking when he held it in his own. He had let his guard down; he'd taken his eyes off of his lieutenant for not even an hour and he almost lost him. The Captain was furious with himself, but he silently thanked God that Piers was safe, that he was smart enough, somehow, to talk that assassin out of killing him.

Turning a corner, he spotted a small group of men huddled around a burning trash barrel. He didn't think, he couldn't, otherwise he would hesitate and begin to feel bad about what he was about to do. He pulled an incendiary grenade from his belt and yanked the pin off with his teeth, throwing it with perfect precision; it landed right in the burning barrel and exploded into a burning wall upon impact. The men screamed and ran, flailing their arms about their body, dropping onto the ground and rolling, trying with their dying breaths to extinguish the flames that licked the skin off of their bones. Chris walked forward as the flames died down and crouched over each corpse, trying to see which would look the most like him, if he was burned alive. He unsheathed his knife as he hovered above one man's body and placed the blade on his throat. There was still enough skin hanging on the skull to make the faked death of Chris Redfield look extremely believable. The Captain felt a knot in his stomach; somehow he had begun to think about what it was that he was doing at the moment, and it was making him nauseous. He cut the last few strands of loose muscle from the neck and pulled off the head of the dead man, the still wet blood staining the ground below.

Walking away from the scene, Chris pulled another fire grenade from his belt and pulled the pin with his teeth again, tossing it behind him to burn what was left of the innocent souls he had murdered. He put the pin with the other one on his pointer finger. He walked with the flames to his back, a murdered man's skull in one hand and an assault rifle in the other. Keeping his eyes forward, he focused on the horizon in which he'd come from, his eyes dark and his face damp with sweat.

Miranda looked back at the ash-covered, sweaty man in her doorway. The skull in his left hand was certainly indistinguishable, certainly burned, and certainly fresh. She could see the animal behind Chris's eyes as he tossed the skull to the ground before her. A chunky liquid leaked from the skull's eye socket. The assassin didn't speak as Chris handed her the two pins and ripped his BSAA patch from his shoulder.

"Well done, Captain," She said, trying to hide the bit of fear in her voice. "Thank you." She picked up the skull by the bit of skin hanging from its jaw and wrapped it in a canvas sheet. She turned and picked the metal tags from the table and proceeded to walk out the door without a word.

"Piers," Chris said, his voice still deep and angry. "Did she hurt you?"

"No, Captain," He replied, standing stiffly before the sweat stained man. Chris's eyes focused on Piers' eyes, and his muscles relaxed at the sight of fear. The Captain's face melted.

"Oh, Piers, I'm so sorry," He said, stepping forward and embracing the younger man. Piers wrapped his arms around the Captain's torso and pressed his face into his chest. "I'm so sorry, I should have taken better care of you…"

"You don't have to babysit me, Chris," Piers replied, stepping back a bit to see the older man's face. He brushed a bit if ash from his cheek. "I'm a big boy, I promise." Chris sighed, his eyes shaking to focus. Without another word, Chris leaned in and kissed Piers heavily.

"I'll never let you get hurt again," Chris whispered, his forehead against Piers'. "I swear, I'll never let you get hurt again." Piers smiled and kissed the Captain again.

"I'm gonna get hurt, Chris, we're in the military," Piers mentioned, only pausing for a moment before he was kissed again.

"No," Chris snapped. "Never again."


	5. Chapter 5

Chris's heart was heavy as he held the wounded sniper. He had been carrying him for a while now, despite the younger's disagreement.

"Chris, put me down, please, I'm not a God damn child," Piers groaned, sincerely frustrated with the way his Captain was acting.

"Forget it, Piers, I'm not letting you out of my sight," Chris argued, his face stern and his eyes unmoving from the path in front of him.

"Fine, don't let me out of your sight, but put me down!" He yelled, pushing himself to the ground. Chris bent down to help him to his feet. "What the hell's gotten into you all of a sudden? First you can't stand to look at me, and now you're stuck on my back like a bad disease? What the hell is going on?" Piers snapped, pushing Chris's hand away as he tried to help.

"Nothing," The Captain replied, after a moment's hesitation.

"That's bullshit, and we both know it," Piers retorted, standing to his feet. Chris looked up at him from his crouch. "I can tell by your eyes. Your eyes never lie, Chris, I've known you long enough to notice at least that."

"What about my eyes?" Chris asked, standing taller than Piers and staring deeply.

"That," Piers pointed, taking a step back from Chris's piercing gaze. "That lust, that burn. It wasn't there a few hours ago in that chapel, and now it's eating away at me," Chris stared. "What happened when Miranda sent you away?" Piers stared back.

"Miranda? You're on a first name basis with the woman who tried to kill me?" Chris snapped, stepping forward again, so close that his chest pressed heavily against Piers'. "I should be asking what happened to _you_ when she sent me away."

"You're seriously gonna bring it there," Piers laughed. "You're seriously gonna make it out so I'm the bad guy here."

"She tried to _kill _me, Piers! How would you have felt? How would you have felt if she actually did? You probably wouldn't have even known it wasn't accidental until it was too late!" Chris's face was colored deeply with rage.

"I wouldn't have felt too good at all, Chris," Piers replied, his face solid.

"Yeah," Chris interjected.

"Now that that pointless bit of information is understood mutually, what the hell happened when you walked out that door?" Piers asked, leaning closer, boring his eyes into the flames. Chris stared, unmoving except for the almost unnoticeable twitch of fury in his gaze. "What did you do to 'save' me, Chris? Captain? What the hell did you do that gave you that look in your eyes?"

"I was compromised," Chris replied, walking past Piers with a solid shove. Piers gritted his teeth and turned, grabbing Chris's shoulder and turning him. "Don't even try to-"

The Captain's words were cut short by a powerful crack across his jaw. He blinked and landed on the floor, looking up at Piers, who held his left hand in his right, gritting his teeth. Chris didn't say a word, knowing that the words he was about to say would taste more of blood than that which was already in his mouth. He spat on the ground next to him, staining the dirt red.

"Captain," Piers spat. "What did you do?"

Chris stared at him for a moment, but his fury had faded; it was now a look of shock and pride. It was almost twisted.

"I killed four men for you, Piers," Chris wiped a line of blood from his lips, all the while his darkened eyes locked into the sniper's. "I killed them, burned them alive, and cut one's head off to pretend it was my own," Piers' jaw dropped, and he gasped quietly. "Then I wiped his blood off of my knife and onto my pants. I went back to that little room and saved you." Piers looked down at the dark stain on Chris's pants, knowing now that the blood wasn't his.

"You didn't save me then, Chris. You killed innocent men to drag me into a false hope," His bottom lip quivered. "I give my heart to you, and this is what you give me? You give me a man who is no longer Chris Redfield, who is no longer the man I love?" Chris saw the soft eyes of the other begin to cry. "You used me as an excuse to kill, is that it?" Piers almost screamed the words, his tears jumping from his face and onto the ground, joining the blood that was spat from the Captain's mouth.

"What? What are you talking about, Piers?" Chris asked, his voice cracking.

"You killed innocent souls for me, Chris! That isn't love, that's obsession! It's lust! I don't know you, now! I don't know if I'll ever know you again after what you've just told me!" Piers' knees buckled, and he fell to the ground a few feet in front of the kneeling Captain. "I loved you, Chris! Why would you do something like that? Why, Chris!?" Piers fell forward, his fists pounding once at the dirt, and the younger man's head fell between his knees in emotional agony. "Why would you do that…?"

"Because I love you, Piers," The Captain sobbed, forcing the younger to look up at him. "I can't lose you… I won't. I love you. I love you," Chris repeated and repeated, sobbing as the younger stared in awe at the unorthodox way the older man's lips moved; the way they moved, the words they made brought an out of place smile onto Piers' face. "I love you, Piers Nivans."

"I know you do," Piers replied, copying the Captain's words from a couple nights prior. He fell forward and embraced the sobbing man as he had in the destroyed building. Piers' eyes burned with confusion and happiness, knowing it was wrong of him to forgive Chris for what he had done, but he knew he would either way. He knew in his heart that there was truly no other way to weasel their way out of the situation that they were in other than to murder someone, and that fueled his pain.

"I'm so sorry, Piers," Chris sobbed, slowly wrapping his arms around the small soldier. Piers didn't reply, but just held the heap of man tighter in his arms.

In the distant darkness, a moan cracked through the sound of crying. Piers looked up towards the sound and back to the man in his arms, realizing he hadn't heard it.

"Chris," Piers whispered, realizing he had none of his weapons, and Chris had somehow lost his handgun between the small room and this place. "Chris, we have to go."

"I'm never letting go of you, Piers," Chris sobbed, grabbing tighter.

"Chris, we have to go!" The sniper yelled, seeing an approaching shadow and standing. Chris stood as well, finally looking back at the enemy, recoiling in shock. He stood for a moment, until Piers shoved him aside. The younger kicked heavily, sending the reanimated corpse flying backwards.

"Piers!" Chris yelled, snapping back into a sense of reality.

"Get back to the chapel!" Piers yelled, grabbing the Captain's hand and running with him, as fast as he could.

* * *

The tall church building was like a silhouette in the dark sky, and neither man slowed until they reached it.

"Open the door!" Chris screamed, slamming his fists against the stone entry. The door opened, and both men charged through, assisting the other soldiers in closing it tightly again.

"Captain Redfield, are you okay?" One of the men asked, running up to Chris and Piers.

"I'm fine. Echo Team, get my men the hell out of here," He ordered, his breath short from running.

"Yes sir," The Echo Captain replied. "Let's move out, boys. Pilot, get the chopper running, squads 1 and 3 will cover you," Echo Team moved quickly, slipping out the door in a blaze of gunfire.

Chris took a minute to recover. He looked over to Piers, who was sitting back on the same pew he had woken up on. The sniper's face was heavy and full of guilt, and for a moment Chris asked himself why, until the sting of blood in his mouth reminded him. He stood up and walked over to his Lieutenant.

"Piers," He said, putting his hands on the back of the pew. Piers didn't respond; in fact, it almost seemed to Chris like the younger man turned his head slightly in the other direction. "Piers, can we talk? Please?" He requested, sitting beside the other. Only now did he realize that Piers was tightly holding his shoulder. Blood had seeped through his shirt. "What happened?" Chris snapped, clearly worried.

"Sprinting here made the stiches break," Piers replied, his voice the least bit cocky. Chris looked around for the medic, but she had already made her way out to the helicopter.

"We're gonna get you to a hospital, okay?" Chris reassured, putting a hand on Piers' uninjured left shoulder. The sniper sighed, putting his face in his hands.

* * *

The helicopter ride was grueling. Piers watched his Captain in the dull red light that pitifully illuminated the cabin of the vehicle; he was standing with a slouch, holding onto a railing above the door and looking out to the passing ground. Piers turned his head to look out the window, knowing that Chris wasn't actually looking at anything, but wanting to see what was out there anyway. The ground was scorched, probably from a raid on the area, but there were still thousands of zombie swarming about below. Piers sighed, looking back over to the statue of a Captain. The younger couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking; his face was solid as usual, but there was some sort of emotion clouding over it. He wished the emotion was realization. He stared for what seemed like hours, trying to slither his way silently into Chris's brain and read what his next move would be, but soon he gave up, and just stared for the sake of staring at the man he loved with longing and worry.

Chris looked back for a second; he could feel his Lieutenant staring at him. He didn't say anything, knowing that the sound of the chopper blades would drown out his voice, but he stared back, his face hard. He wanted to ask if the younger man was okay, wanted to ask how his shoulder was doing, if he needed his rest, but the Captain could only stare, his face a rock of emotion. He couldn't move he couldn't soften the angry glare, and he despised himself for it. He knew Piers would think that he was upset and angry, when all he really wanted to do was hold him, apologize, make everything okay; but he couldn't, and he didn't understand why. He turned away and gripped the bar tighter, gritting his teeth in frustration. He would make this right, even if it killed him.

* * *

The beeping of hospital equipment made Chris uneasy. He knew that Piers would be okay, but somehow being in a hospital made him more uptight than the battlefield. He felt helpless. He stood with his arms crossed outside Piers' assigned room and traced the numbers on the door with his eyes. There was a small clock on the wall above the door, and it read "05:13". His eyes moved to the knob as it turned, and a short-haired nurse walked out with a clipboard hugged to her torso.

"He's gonna be okay," She said, handing Chris the papers attached to the clipboard. "Minor bruising and internal bleeding caused by the initial wound, but that other medic did a good job keeping it sterile. Just make sure he gets rest and he should be out of here in a couple of days. He's knocked out with meds right now, but you can go in and see him if you want. Visiting hours are up in 45 minutes though, so try to hurry it up, okay? Or you can come back at 2. We need the morning for check-ups, you know?" Chris nodded and thanked the nurse, watching her walk away before stepping into the room.

Chris smiled as he saw the sleeping Lieutenant. His face was soft and innocent, and his breathing was steady and relaxed. A slight beam of sunlight shone on him as he slept. The Captain sat in the seat beside the bed and watched the younger's steady breathing.

"I'm sorry, Piers," He whispered, taking his hand. He caressed it gently with his thumb and sighed. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you," He listened for a moment to the beeping of the monitor next to the bed as he thought of something else to say. The Captain swallowed a lump in his throat and stood up, letting Piers' hand rest at his side. He leaned forward and kissed the younger's forehead, then turned and walked out the door, closing it gently.

Chris looked down at his boots as he leaned back against the door. His mind raced, thinking back to the night at the motel and the innocent look of his drunken Lieutenant. He smiled at the memory, but that smile faded at the thought of reality. He was standing outside a hospital room door, not knowing what his next move should be. Chris was lost, and he didn't know why. Something in him had broken the night before; something when he shed the blood of an innocent man to save the one he loved. Was it right? Was he right in what he did? He scoffed at the thought. His eyes burned at the word "murder" that shone like a beacon in his mind. He was selfish at that moment. As the vivid memory of slicing flesh tore away at his sanity, Chris had realized that he didn't do it to save Piers; he did it to save himself. He had said it once, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to say it again: he would no longer retain the shape or existence of Chris Redfield if Piers was dead.

Chris moved forward, shuffling his feet in remorse as he made his way to the reception counter.

"May I make a phone call?" He asked. The secretary behind the desk was filling out paperwork, but she paused to point Chris to the phone.

"Dial 1 first," She said, her eyes unmoving from the stack of papers. Chris thanked her and took the phone from the receiver.

The tone rang, and Chris kicked at the ground as he waited.

"This is Agent Kennedy," The voice answered, groggily.

"Leon, it's Chris," He replied, sighing.

"Chris? Are you okay?" He asked, clearly confused as to why the Captain was calling him so early in the morning.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm at the hospital, Piers was shot. I need your help," He waited for a reply.

"I'll be there in 15 minutes," Leon replied. The phone clicked.

* * *

Chris paced outside of the hospital, his mind wide awake despite how tired his body was. He was thinking again, and he wondered if calling Leon was such a good idea. He knew he was just looking for guidance, but he really didn't want to pour all of his frustration onto his trusted friend. A black SUV pulled up beside him, and the window rolled down.

"Get in, we'll go get coffee," Leon called from the driver's seat. Chris smiled and got in. "So what's going on?" Leon asked, looking at Chris and back to the road.

"Piers was shot," He answered.

"Piers is?" Leon asked.

"My Lieutenant," Chris replied, remembering that the two had never met. "He was shot by someone that was aiming for me."

"What?" Leon asked, almost shocked.

"Yeah. An assassin, a woman named Miranda. Of course that may or may not be her real name. She never said who she was working for," Chris pursed his lips and sighed, feeling anger well up in his temple again. Leon looked over at him again.

"You spoke with her?" He asked, not entirely believing the situation.

"I, uh… actually was in the same room as she was. She kidnapped Piers and I…" Chris cleared his throat and furrowed his brow. "I had to get him back."

"You know what she looks like?" The blonde man asked, obviously thinking up a plan to find the woman that Chris spoke of.

"Yeah," Chris replied. He sighed, biting at the inside of his cheek.

"Why was she trying to kill you?" Leon questioned. He pulled the car into the parking lot of a small coffee shop. He put the vehicle in park and shut it off, leaning back against his seat and waiting for an answer from his friend.

"She was hired," Chris replied, trying hard not to look at Leon, who would clearly know something deeper was wrong if he had.

"And you don't know who hired her or why they wanted you dead," Leon asked, as more of a statement than a question. Chris didn't reply. "Chris, you do know this is something I have to have FOS look into, right?"

"Yeah," Chris replied. "I want to help you."

"Well… That's good," Leon said with hesitation. He studied Chris's hidden expression. "What's the matter?" Chris's face turned sour for a second; this was what he didn't want to happen.

"Nothing I can't handle," He responded, his voice shaking a bit.

"Fine," Leon laughed. "Let's go get coffee. Then later we'll get drunk and you'll tell me all about what's wrong."

"Leon…" Chris sighed, trying to hold a solid composure at Leon's cocky humor.

"Come on," Leon grinned, stepping out of the car. Chris took his vest off and put it in the back seat. After standing, Leon sighed at the Captain and smiled.

"What?" Chris asked.

"You're filthy. They're gonna think you just murdered someone," Leon reached in the trunk of the SUV and pulled out a black sweatshirt. Chris's brain kicked at the words, burning his thoughts into hardened clay. Leon tossed him the sweatshirt. "Put that on."

"Thanks," Chris replied quietly, staring at the black fabric for a moment before sliding it over his head. It was tight, as was all clothing that didn't belong to him. He sighed again.

"Try not to break it," Leon laughed, already walking across the parking lot. Chris grinned guiltily and followed.

* * *

Chris was a little more relaxed as the warm beverage slithered down his throat. He realized he hadn't eaten more than an apple in almost two days, and he was next to starving.

"You know, I always think about how a little town like this can survive in all this shit when big cities and even countries just a few hundred miles away can't," Leon said, taking another sip of his coffee. "Maybe we're just all doing that good of a job protecting this place."

"Maybe," Chris sighed, looking at the tiny blood spots on his pants.

"Alright, that's it," Leon said, putting his coffee in the cup holder and pulling the car to the side of the road, almost recklessly.

"What the hell!" Chris snapped, gesturing to the spilled coffee on his shirt.

"Tell me what's going on in your big freaking head, Chris. I just bought you coffee."

"Leon, seriously, I can handle it," Chris growled, taking a napkin from the glove compartment and wiping his shirt.

"That's crap. You aren't fooling anyone, Chris, just tell me. Don't you trust me?" Leon pushed.

"Yeah, Leon, I do. I trust you, but not with something like this. I don't know if I can yet."

"You can," Leon reassured. He shifted himself in his seat. "I just want to help." Chris sighed.

"You're a very trusted friend, Leon, and I need you to swear that this won't leave this car," He turned his eyes to Leon, whose head was cocked to the side. Leon smiled and held up 3 fingers.

"Scout's honor, man," He replied. Chris studied his friend's blue eyes for a moment to see if there was sincerity in them. When there was, he sighed through his nose, hesitating.

"I killed four men last night," Chris said bluntly. Leon didn't move. "Four innocent men, Leon."

"Why?" Leon asked, his face still emotionless.

"To save my Lieutenant," He answered, still locked into Leon's eyes. "To save Piers. It was either him or me, and the assassin gave me a choice. She said I could help her set up a fake death of me and she would let him go."

"Just let him go?" Leon repeated. "Why?"

"I don't know, he said…something to her that made her change her mind and want to let him go," Chris thought to himself how the sentence sounded out loud, and waited for a reaction.

"So why did you kill these men?" Leon asked, obviously trying to understand.

"She said to make it seem real she needed a fresh skull…" Chris answered, choking on the words. "It needed to be charred… burned…" Chris bit at his tongue. "Not only did I murder these men, Leon, but I destroyed them, tore them apart, burned them alive and decapitated one of them with my knife, and I thought nothing of it. I'm a Goddamn monster, Leon, I don't know what to do!" Chris started to cry. He gripped his hair and dropped his head into his arms.

"But Chris…" Leon sighed, not knowing what to do. "You think you could have done something else? It seems to me like you didn't have a choice. You had to save Piers, didn't you?"

"I could have done a shitload else! I could have done anything else Leon! I could have turned to walk out that door and pulled out a gun and shot the bitch right in the face! I could have just killed her and everything would have been fine! I let myself be manipulated, and it's all because..!" Chris stopped and gritted his teeth. He looked down and sobbed a bit, not knowing if he wanted to speak any further.

"Because why, Chris?" Leon asked. Chris scoffed and held his face in his hands again.

"Because I love him…" Chris sobbed.

"What?" Leon asked, not sure what the crying man had said.

"I love him, Leon, and it's making shit a hell of a lot harder around here!" The Captain blushed behind his tears as the words flew loudly out of his mouth.

"You love…?" Leon blinked.

"I'm in love with Piers," Chris muttered, his face hot at the confession.

"Oh," Leon blinked again. "I…don't know what to say," Leon looked down for a moment and thought carefully about what to say. "I'm not going to look at you any differently, Chris. Just know that." Chris sobbed again.

"Thank you, Leon," He replied, taking Leon's hand in a tight grip.

"Now, I'm going to find this woman that made you do this," Leon said, putting his hand on Chris's shaking shoulder. "Are you gonna help me?"

"Yeah," Chris growled, pulling himself together. "Yeah, I am."

"Good," Leon nodded. "Let's get down to FOS then."

"It's a 6 hour drive," Chris pointed out. Leon started the car.

"Yeah?" Leon asked, looking back at his friend.

"Can I go say goodbye to Piers first?" Chris asked, blushing again.

"Yeah," Leon replied, smiling.

"Thanks," Chris said, smiling back. The trees sped by as the car moved, and Chris couldn't help but think what he was going to do to the assassin when he saw her again. His throat was tight with the anticipation. Leon was talking on his phone to Hunnigan, who he was filling in on the situation. Chris heard her say that they would get looking in on it right away.

_You son of a bitch,_ Chris thought silently to himself. He gritted his teeth again. _I'm coming for you. And I'm gonna do the same thing to you that you made me do to those men… And then I'm going to kill you._


	6. Chapter 6

Piers squinted as he opened his eyes, groaning at the sunlight. After rubbing at the throbbing in his temples, he looked over at the clock. It was 1:26, and he wondered where Chris was, and why he hadn't woken up with him by his side.

"Nurse?" He called, his voice hoarse. A small woman trotted in with a smile. "What are visiting hours?" He asked, putting a hand over his eye.

"Visiting hours are 2 pm to 11 pm, and 3 am to 6 am, hun," She replied, with a quirky accent.

"Thanks," The sniper replied, laying back down. At least he knew why Chris wasn't beside him. Piers sighed. He worried about what Chris was doing out there alone. He hoped it was nothing like last time. If anyone needed to be kept on watch, it was the Captain. The sniper laid his head back down on the pillow. It was relaxing, despite the pain in his shoulder and headache. Come to think of it, the last time he actually slept in a bed was…

Piers blushed, remembering his Captain's embracing figure. What happened to Chris that he had to change? Why couldn't that night happen again? Why couldn't he just admit…

"Hey," The deep voice said, in the midst of Piers' dream. The younger snapped open his eyes and looked up at the older man. "Sleep well?"

"Captain," Piers stuttered, seeing an impressive mound of flowers in the Captain's hands. The sniper blinked the sleep out of his eyes and smiled.

"How's your shoulder?" Chris asked, putting the flowers down on the bedside table.

"Doing better than my head," Piers scoffed, groaning in pain again as he put his hands back on his temples.

"Yeah, lack of gunfire and explosions will do that to you," Chris laughed. Piers smiled, only holding back the laughter for sake of keeping his headache to a minimum. A soft knock on the doorframe caused both men to look over.

"May I interrupt?" The blonde man asked, his arms crossed as he stood patiently in the doorway.

"Yeah, come in," Chris answered. "Piers, this is Agent Leon Kennedy; he's a good friend of mine. He's with FOS."

"Good to meet you," Piers greeted, holding out a hand for Leon to take.

"Hey Piers," Chris interjected. The sniper looked back. "Listen… Leon and I are going on a little side mission while you're healing up," He took Piers' hand in his. The younger man blinked, not sure what to think or what to say.

"What do you mean?" He asked, slowly pulling his hand away and waiting for the silence to expire. He heard Leon clear his throat, and watched as Chris moved his eyes to his friend and back. "Chris? What do you mean, 'side mission'?" Chris sighed.

"Leon, can you give us a bit?" Chris asked, not taking his eyes off of the younger man.

"Yeah, man, give me a call when you're set to go," Leon let off a little salute to Piers and turned out the door, closing it behind him. Piers looked back at Chris.

"We're going after Miranda," Chris admitted, looking down at the tiled floor.

"You're _what?_" Piers snapped, his eyes flashing wide.

"I know it sounds rash, Piers, but this is something—"

"Something you _have _to do Chris? To 'put your mind at ease'? No, it's not! Just let it go, I'm alive, I'm breathing, I'm safe!" Piers sat up in his bed.

"No, you're not," Chris argued, his voice surprisingly calm. "And even if that was the case, that doesn't mean I'm not going to do this. It's something I _do_ have to do, for my own sake. It's not just about you this time."

"_This_ time?" Piers snapped. "When has it ever been about me? When have you ever done anything with me in mind Chris?"

"Since I fell in love with you," Chris replied, his face solid. Piers recoiled.

"…What?" The sniper asked, his face red.

"I said, 'since I fell in love with you'. Is it that hard to comprehend? Everything I do now is to make sure you're okay, make sure you live another day with me," Chris smiled softly. Piers stared for a moment, his mouth agape at the words. He could see it again, the eyes he'd been longing to see since the night that burns in both of their minds; the eyes that loved Piers Nivans.

"Chris…" He stuttered. His eyes sparkled.

"Yeah?" Chris asked, still smiling.

"You…love me?" Piers asked, still not quite sure if he was dreaming.

"No, Piers. I'm in love with you, there's a huge difference," Chris chuckled. The strong man stood up from his chair and knelt next to the bed, taking the younger man into his arms. Piers hesitated, but quickly wrapped his arms around his Captain. "I know you wish we could go back to the way it was, back to that night, Piers, but you have to know that I can't until the blood on my hands is justified."

"Yeah, I know," Piers agreed, still taking in the older man's scent. He held him tighter, burying his face completely into the musk.

Chris held the sniper gently, as if he was a breakable doll in his hands. He brushed the short, sandy hair against his face and closed his eyes, taking in the moment for the first time in a long time.

"Piers," Chris whispered. Piers shuttered at the name against his ear. "The nurses said I can take you out for a couple hours if you're feeling up to it," The Captain leaned back to see the reaction in the green eyes; it was a reaction of surprise and happiness.

"Y-yes Captain," Piers replied with a stutter. "I'd like that very much."

"Good," Chris smiled, standing up and scooping the younger man into his arms and cradling him. "Let's go, then."

"Urk, Chris! You are _not_ carrying me out of here like this," Piers demanded, the tubes in his arm tugging around as the muscular man twirled him.

"Says you," The Captain argued, biting at Piers' ear gently. Piers blushed. The door opened suddenly, and the perky nurse stepped in.

"Oop! Sorry, guys," She giggled, putting a clipboard and a small white cup down on the table. Chis and Piers blinked, and Chris gently set the younger back onto the bed as the nurse cleaned up around the room.

"Is it still okay for me to take him out for lunch?" Chris asked, hopeful, with a hint of something else lining his words.

"Yup, as long as he's back in 2 hours," The woman replied, fixing the curtains. "And as long as he takes these first."

Piers leaned forward to see what was in the white cup that was being handed to him. There were 3 pills, all of which looked like they would hurt trying to swallow. He grimaced.

"Oh, come on, Lieutenant. Just take them so we can get out of here. I can help, if you want," Chris smirked, holding up a pinky and wiggling it.

"What the hell, Chris..!" The sniper hissed, grabbing the cup from the nurse and downing all 3 pills with the glass of water that sat sweating on the table. He coughed and cleared his throat. Chris grinned.

* * *

The sunlight was much less painful to Piers as he stepped out the hospital doors and into the fresh air. He inhaled deeply and sighed, stretching his arms high above his head. The pills were working magic; it didn't hurt at all to move his arm around.

"Alright, Captain where to?" Piers asked, his green eyes sparkling in the sun. Chris smiled, taking the younger man into his arms again.

"I found a lovely little park next to the coffee shop downtown," The Captain replied, in a silly accent, possibly mimicking the preppy nurse that had so rudely interrupted his fun.

"Parks suck," Piers replied, pulling back from the embrace and punching the older man lightly on the shoulder.

"This one won't, I promise," Chris insisted. Piers sighed with a smile.

"Alright, fine. But only because I would only have 2 hours to argue with you otherwise."

The older man laughed, taking the other's hand in his and walking through the parking lot.

* * *

"Yeah, this place sucks," Piers laughed as they approached. A few people were jogging, one woman with her little dog and a few more listening to some funky music on their headphones. There were only 2 benches, one in which an old lady was seated feeding the pigeons and the other which was broken almost in half. The trees were very overgrown, and the drinking fountain by the rusty playground was filled with dirt. "What the hell did you bring me here for?"

"I'll show you," Chris replied, hugging around the younger's waist and kissing the back of his head. He pulled the sniper behind him and led him around a few trees, to a small shed.

"What is this?" Piers asked. Chris smiled and walked up to the wooden door, creaking it open.

"It's unlocked, that's what it is," He smirked, holding a hand out for Piers to take. Piers blushed and put his hand in the Captain's.

The two closed the door behind them, and the little wooden place was dimly lit by a gas lamp on a high shelf. There was a surprisingly clean mattress on the ground, surrounded by lawn tools and bags of mulch.

"Did you do this?" Piers asked, still blushing.

"Nah, it was here. But I brought a sheet," Chris chuckled, pulling a white sheet from behind the door.

"Is that…one of the hospital sheets?" Piers asked, pointing at the cotton.

"Yeah, so?" Chris laughed.

"I swear, you're a clepto," Piers sighed, smiling. Chris finished putting the sheet on the mattress and looked at his watch in the dull light.

"1 hour and 37 minutes left," He mentioned. "Alright."

Piers blinked and was swept into the older man's arms, coming down softly on the mattress. He blushed as Chris inched close to his face and kissed him lightly. Piers shut his eyes, letting the Captain's lips tie into his own. He wondered why Chris was doing this, if he had any background intentions, but again he disregarded them, letting himself sink into the moment.

The strong lips tasted as they had that one night, minus the chips and alcohol. They were sweet and trembling beneath his own. He knew that Chris was being careful and cautious, but he didn't want him to; he wanted him to be rough and tense like he was in the motel room. The sniper pulled at his Captain's shirt, hoping to grab at the bulging muscles beneath. Chris breathed as the younger removed his shirt and tossed it to the side.

Piers licked at the lips that kissed him and caressed the nervous muscles. Why was he nervous? Chris had obviously done this before, and Piers couldn't think of any reason why he would be afraid, but it kind of excited him. He kind of liked being the one that wasn't scared for this to happen. The sniper began to play at the older man's belt line. Chris inhaled as the hands found their way down and between his legs.

"Piers," He whispered.

"Yeah, Captain?" The younger replied, biting at his ear.

"You don't want to take it slow?" Chris asked, pausing for a moment.

"Do we have time to take it slow?" Piers retorted, tugging at the short, dark locks of hair between his fingers. Chris grinned and locked his lips into the other's again, this time lustfully, just as Piers wanted. The younger couldn't get enough of this feeling; the feeling of tension and passion that was flowing out of the man on top of him like a waterfall. Piers jerked forward and removed his own shirt, tossing it beside Chris's and grabbing him again, tying his tongue into the Captain's teeth. Piers' hands could feel how tight Chris's pants were against his groin, and he wanted so badly to be given the silent permission to take them off, but for some teasing reason Chris was refusing it. It was driving the sniper mad.

"Chris…" He hissed. The Captain smirked. "Take them off…"

"You're so feisty," Chris breathed, feeling the younger clawing at his jeans. "Maybe I should punish you for being so impatient, Lieutenant…"

"Yeah, punish me," Piers agreed, breathing heavily at his own mid-section constriction. He was throbbing.

Chris slid off the younger's pants, but kept them hanging around his ankles.

"Aww. You're so hard already," Chris pointed out, rubbing at the member with an open hand. Piers flushed a deep red and let out a little moan. "It's adorable," The Captain's face moved downwards, and Piers throbbed at the realization of what he was doing. He was taken into the older man's mouth and he exhaled in another moan of pleasure. He could barely stand the wet warmth; it took every bit of his control not to let himself go right then and there. Piers shut his eyes tightly and laid back. He couldn't stand to look at the Captain, or he might just lose it.

The warmth backed away.

"Piers, are you alright?" Chris asked, teasingly playing at the younger. Piers nodded quickly, wishing Chris hadn't stopped. The older man smiled, moving his grip to the sniper's tight ass. Chris cooed as he played, listening to the audible sounds of Piers' pleasure. The younger was so vulnerable; Chris held both of Piers' hands over his head with one of his hands, and used the other to ready him for what had yet to come.

"C-Captain..!" Piers moaned, feeling the strong fingers inch their way closer to his soft spot. He struggled weakly as Chris held his arms together, but he didn't want it to stop. He wanted more. The younger arched his back and begged. "Please..!" Chris watched as a small bead of white crawled its way into visibility and dripped down onto Piers' leg. The older cleaned it with his tongue.

"Mmm… Piers, you're getting excited aren't you..? Maybe I should stop teasing you," Chris suggested in a seductive whisper. Piers tensed again at the hot breath in his ear and the tight grip around his wrists. He begged to his Captain again.

"Please, Chris, please..!" He almost screamed it, but made sure to keep as quiet as sanely possible to avoid being heard in the broad afternoon atmosphere.

"Please what, Piers?" Chris asked. He thirsted to hear the words of begging again and again.

"Please fuck me, Chris, please...!" Piers moaned, licking at the just-out-of-reach lips that grinned sadistically.

"That's a good boy…" Chris whispered.

He entered Piers forcefully, almost hurting himself in the process. The hand that played was now tightly clamped over the younger man's mouth, so as to drown out the scream that followed. The Captain gritted his teeth, moving his hips slowly at first, but then disregarding his need to be seductive in exchange for his own pleasure, they moved faster and with purpose.

Piers' muffled screams intensified as Chris hit that spot over and over and over. He was surprised at how well he was holding himself, considering that this was only the second time he'd been had by his Captain. He heard the older man whisper his name as he moaned and he could tell by the sweat and bulging veins in his forehead that he had almost had enough. Piers was relieved; at least he wasn't the only one that was trying very hard not to let it go after such a short time. The younger clenched his eyes shut again and quivered as he let off. The warm liquid dripped off of Chris's torso as he thrusted a last time, exhaling with a shivering moan as he came inside the younger.

"Ngh…" Chris moaned as he pulled himself out. The two breathed heavily and began to laugh quietly.

"You're cute," Piers chuckled, turning his head to look at the heap of Chris lying next to him.

"You're cute; shut up," Chris laughed, his arms outstretched. He pulled a side of the sheet up and wiped his chest clean. A muffled rock song began to play, and Chris pulled out his phone. "Eh," He complained. "Hello?" He answered.

"You done yet?" Leon asked on the other line.

"Yeah," Chris replied, trying hard not to pant. "Be back there in 20 minutes."

"Okay, lover boy, see you soon," Leon laughed, and the phone clicked off. Piers blinked in the dull light.

"Lover boy?" He asked, still looking at Chris.

"I told you he's a trusted friend," Chris replied, handing the younger his shirt.

"You told him?" Piers blushed deeply. Chris laughed.

"What, you think Leon is gonna go around telling people? I have more blackmail on him than he ever could on me. You should see what he did in the girl's locker room at camp last spring; I have pictures on my camera," The older man began to boom with laughter, which made Piers feel a little better about the situation. The younger's smile faded, however.

"You're still leaving with him, aren't you?" Piers asked, looking down at his hands, which were pressed flat on the mattress.

"I have to, Piers," Chris replied, with a sorrowful sigh. He put an arm around Piers' shoulders.

"For how long? I'm gonna be out of the hospital in 2 days, maybe even tomorrow if I'm feeling up to it," The sniper said, his eyes soft and begging.

"I swear it won't be long," Chris reassured, though he wasn't completely sure himself. "I'll be back before our next mission. Then we can have a welcome back party," Chris smiled, ruffling the sniper's hair. Piers blushed.

"I'm gonna miss you, Chris," He admitted, looking up from the ground with glossy eyes.

"I'll miss you too, Romeo," Chris retorted, putting a hand behind Piers' head and resting their foreheads together. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Captain," Piers replied, letting a tear fall.

* * *

The black SUV hummed quietly as it sped down the highway. Leon looked ahead as he drove, and the radio quietly played what sounded like "Don't Stop Believin'". Chris turned it off and sighed.

"What's the matter?" Leon asked, looking over to Chris for a moment.

"Nothing. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do," He admitted, clearing his throat of the need to cry.

"Yeah, it sucks," Leon replied.

"How would you know? I bet girls fall for you all the time," Chris scoffed sarcastically.

"Aww. Are you saying I'm pretty, lover boy?" Leon smiled, kissing the air in Chris's direction. The Captain blushed.

"You shut your mouth," He snapped, turning his head and pressing it against the cool window. "All I'm saying is that you could fall in love any time you want. I almost didn't have a choice. It just happened."

"How romantic," Leon said, cockily. "But hey, I fell in love too. A very inconvenient love, just like yours. So whether I'm pretty or not, women are just women to me. None are her. So maybe you feel the same about Piers, maybe you don't, I don't know. But no matter what it is, be happy you don't have to deal with one very problematic thing," Leon stated.

"And what's that?" Chris asked, looking back to the driver with his hand still on his chin.

"Falling in love with a woman," He answered, laughing.

"Damn straight," Chris agreed, joining in the laughter.

Piers sighed, sitting alone in his hospital bed. The scent of Chris still lingered on his clothes, and he refrained from taking it all in, worrying that it would somehow disappear. He wiped a premature tear from his eye and looked over to the table where the pile of flowers still sat. His Captain had only been gone for a few hours now and already he missed his presence.

"Lieutenant Nivans," A voice called from the doorway. Piers looked over, and a commanding officer was standing with a manila folder in his hands.

"Sir," Piers replied, sitting straight even though it stung.

"I understand your Captain is out on a mission," He mentioned, setting the folder on the table beside the bed.

"Yes sir," Piers replied.

"This is a mission your team will pursue upon his return. You will be briefed 2 days after his arrival and set out for Edonia the next day," The man explained, his hands crossed behind his back.

"Understood, sir," Piers agreed, honestly curious about the contents of the folder.

"Very good. Rest well, Nivans," The man turned and let himself out the door.

"Thank you sir," Piers said, just before the door closed. He swallowed a lump in his throat and pursed his lips, wondering whether or not to open the envelope until Chris's return. He bit the inside of his cheek and stood up, looking at the outside of the folder. The tab read "Edonia" in poorly etched black permanent marker. He traced the letters with his fingertip and opened it.


End file.
